


Cry me Goodnight

by Elle_Reed



Category: Naruto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Reed/pseuds/Elle_Reed
Summary: Orochimaru died, but actually, he's still alive.
Kudos: 6





	Cry me Goodnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta who? Never met her lol

Pity. He was drowning in it. Back then, back now, he’d sneer and run like the coward he was. He could not accept kindness. He was ever so untrusting. He still is.

“To bite the hand that feeds.”

He was ungrateful for the things he had. In a way, he still was. He could acknowledge that what he did was wrong. He could admit that without his teacher, he’d never have progressed as far as he did.

Orochimaru is eight, and he stands at the graves of his parents for the first time.

He watches himself, the reflection from the glass over his mind hitting his eyes ever so slightly.

He had encased his former self protectively. This was the last moment before he turned to what he is today.

He looks away.

The world fades and zigs and suddenly he’s standing in the middle of a torn field, blade shining dimly and his comrades fallen.

He is eleven, and this is the first war he’s been in.

His sword is dull, cracked, and his hands are bleeding from the blisters that haven’t quite become callouses yet.

The world fades, and he’s in yet another battlefield.

He is sixteen and this is the Second Shinobi War. His blade this time is sharp- in fact, it is the sharpest sword in existence.

Not two months earlier did he defeat the legendary snake Yamata no Orochi, the giant snake beast, and claimed the snake contract. He is the first in several generations to own it. His body changes, he’s suddenly more flexible and more uncaring, he’s gained his purple marks. In body and soul, he is part snake.

His teammates disapprove but they’re fighting a war so they won’t say a word. They may never say a thing- like how he and Tsunade never said anything about Jiraiya’s tendency to head to a brothel or how Jiraiya and he never said a word about Tsunade’s drinking problem. The way he’ll never say a thing about the day Jiraiya and Tsunade showed up late to a post and reeking of each other.

He knows that they think they got away with it. They never had. They never have.

The world fades once more and Orochimaru hopes to God it’s the last time. He wants it to end; he doesn’t need to see his life flash by. He’s dead, he should be done with this dammit.

The world comes back into view, and he wants to cry because it feels real.

He’s 24. He stands in front of his parent’s graves with a dry throat and clammy hands. This is unusual. When is the last time he’s felt nervous? He tentatively reaches to his cheek and flinches. Hollow. Yet, he can move.

Why can he move?

“So what will it be, Orochimaru?” Danzo, not yet fallen so far down, asks snidely.

He wants to scoff, flip dramatically, anything. Anything that will make him feel like himself. But he simply isn’t.

Dead is what he should be.

“I don’t have all day, boy.”

He finds his words. He turns and smiles and asks for a day to think about his offer. He can see the surprise and annoyance in Danzo’s eyes. Orochimaru wants to spit on him. He should be the one to feel annoyed. Trying to convince him on his parent’s death anniversary? He wants to feel irritated, but, well… It worked last time, didn’t it?

Orochimaru’s hands twitch. He aches for something to do- anything. He’s still standing in front of the grave of his parents. He wonders what they would do. His memory of them is foggier than ever.

He’s a bad son. He hasn’t taken care of the grave in decades; he hasn’t even spared his long-gone parents a thought.

He takes a deep breath and almost cries at the feeling of air hitting his lungs. The smell of the Konoha forest is thick around the graveyard. He’s never realized how much he misses home.

Death changes people, so it seems.

Orochimaru shivers and feels a surge of emotions. He hasn’t actually felt something in ages. He’s overwhelmed.

He counts to one hundred in his head and tries to recall the year. He’s 24. It is September 21st. The war within Ame has finally died down. Ah. It’s the year Tsunade left the village. Took Dan’s niece with her and disappeared without a trace.

He remembers the resentment now. Feeling betrayed all over again, feeling angered that she would not confide in even him.

Tsunade had once told him he was her brother.

Orochimaru huffed a bit, head cast down as he wiped the perfectly clean grave.

The bitterness would never wear off, so it seemed.

He spared a thought or two for his parents, thanked them for what they gave him, and turned to leave.

He doesn’t understand why he was here. Orochimaru was entirely ready to lie in his grave. He does not need a redemption arc.

He is a bad person.

There are no if’s and’s or but’s.

So why does he want to change anyway? Why is it that he feels the need to do things differently?

To be frank, Orochimaru doesn’t want to know. He sighs and stands straight—no need to masquerade as a Nara when there are so many of them.

He touches his face once more and cringes at the sharpness of his features. When was the last time he ate anything?

His labs must still be open now.

Thinking of the offer from years ago, he wonders if it’s the same now.

Most likely, yes.

He was oh so consumed in his experiments.

Well, that has changed.

Humming, he decides to turn to the Hokage’s tower. Orochimaru should have done this the first time around.

On the way there, he’s stared at. Honestly, he’s just glad he’s not being attacked. Being able to just walk with only silently judgmental people is pleasant. Orochimaru stands a little straighter,

When the tower is in sight, he shunshin’s in and quietly exhales in amusement at the civilian secretary’s reaction.

He knocks on his sensei’s door and wonders if he’s come at an inconvenient time.

“Enter,” comes the weary sigh.

Orochimaru strides in and feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Here’s the man he killed, nearly forty years younger and still in his prime. His teacher in the flesh.

“Oh, Orochimaru,” He says, sounding more tired by the minute.

Orochimaru reckons he expects demands of more test subjects or something of the sort.

“What can I do for you?” His sensei asks, the scratch of his pen filling the otherwise silent room.

“Sensei,” Orochimaru begins, the word falling like heavy lead on his tongue. “Ah, this is a bit hard to say.”

The scratching stops.

“What is it?”

“How busy is your schedule?”

Hiruzen leans on his palm and checks a paper on his desk.

“I don’t have any more meetings scheduled for today. Does your request last for more than a few hours?”

Orochimaru folds his arms behind him.

“Yes, sensei. Possibly all day.”

Hiruzen sighs and cracks his neck.  
“Take a seat then, my student.”

Orochimaru hesitates for a second before going over to sit in front of his teacher. He smells like ash and tobacco.

“Sensei, this is going to be a very messy affair.”

Hiruzen’s eyebrow raises delicately, hands folding together.

Orochimaru glances up to the ceiling.

“Orochimaru, did you kill someone you shouldn’t have?”

Orochimaru furrows his brows, vaguely offended before shaking his head.

“Good. Now then, will you tell me why you seem so nervous to be around our special agents?”

He’s nervous because any one of them can be a Root member.

He lowers his voice as much as he cans and leans in a little.

“Not very long ago, your councilman approached me at my parent’s graves. He offered me ah, well, quite a horrific job in an Anbu division called Root.”

Hiruzen leans back, startled.

“Which council member?”

Orochimaru purses his lips and gets the feeling his teacher knew a lot more than he ever let on about Danzo’s affairs.

“Councilman Danzo Shimura, sensei.”

Hiruzen’s face becomes stern.

“What exactly did he offer you?”

Orochimaru glances nervously up to the ceiling again, fingers tapping on his armrest.

Hiruzen activated the seals in the room, sealing shut the conversation soon to be had.

“He wants me to experiment on children. Implement Uchiha Sharingan and mix Hashirama cells into their DNA. There are more, but these are the ones he specified to me. He told me he’d get me labs across Fire Country and some down in Water Country, help me escape if things went south. Sensei, I don’t want any of this. This is going to sound outlandish, but I just want to stop for a moment. I just want to breathe, and I don’t want to keep going with the constant experiments.”

Orochimaru realized he vented far more frustration than he’d ever want to.

“I _will_ take care of this, Orochimaru. Did he say anything else about Root?” Hiruzen asked, clicking his pen and getting ready to write.

No, he hadn’t, but Orochimaru worked for him once upon a time.

“He told me to meet him at one of the entrances, just outside the East wall. Near the creek. Ah, he has three children under his care that he said would be suitable for me, whatever that meant: Anko Mitarashi and a child he took named Karyoku. Karyoku is older, I believe he’s already finished the conditioning and been given a new name. Tenzo, was it? He’s one of the candidates for the Hashirama cells.”

Hiruzen nodded, seals deactivating.

“Alright. Okay.” He sighs. “I’ll deal with this. Empty your office and your lab. We’re getting you away from the medical field for a good while. Two months?”

Orochimaru grimaced. Did he want to leave forever? Take a break? What would he do in his spare time? He can’t just stay idle.

“I won’t bar you from missions,” Hiruzen said with a huff. “Now get that sour look off your face. And get something to eat, you’re skinnier than a starved rat. I expect to see your workspace cleared by the end of the day.”

Orochimaru rolled his eyes and stood.

“Yes, thank you, sensei.”

He pushed his chair in and turned, idly rubbing a bit of his hair between his fingers. God, it was so dry. His poor hair. Oh, woe is its fate. He’d have to give it some serious time. Getting high-quality scentless hair products is a pain. He’d have to make a whole day of it. Possibly tomorrow.

Hiruzen called out to him before he left the office.

“Oh, and, Orochimaru?”

Orochimaru turned and hummed inquisitively, eager to leave the office. He felt like ants were crawling over him (of course, if they were, his chakra would have found them and quickly poisoned them).

“I’m proud of you for coming to me about this,” Hiruzen said sincerely, a genuine smile on his face.

It made Orochimaru uncomfortable.

“... Yes, well, I thought it would be best if you knew. Be safe, sensei.”

He left before any more chatter could stop him. He had a lot to empty, many illegal things to burn, and a lot of research to turn into the medical staff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Orochimaru based story :)) 
> 
> I'm not sure if anyone actually wants to read this but it was fun writing so :D

**Author's Note:**

> this work will have very slow updates. sorry in advance :\


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